Your Sword and Shield
by asdfasdfadsf
Summary: Ferelden witnesses a mysterious newcomer.
1. Chapter 1

It was done. In the their quest to attain aid from the Circle of Magi, Elissa Cousland persisted through dozens of possessed Templars, foolish blood mages, demons, and the cursed Fade. Oh the Maker, how she despised that realm and its inhabitants. Killing Uldred and returning First Enchanter Irving to Knight Commander Gregoir was a far easier task than traversing through the blasted maze that the Fade was, where she encountered the unfortunate spirits of those possessed and her own companions' insecurities. Poor Alistair, it was quite obvious that he never had a true loving family.

Nevertheless, what mattered was that she and her group survived the ordeal so that they could now reminiscence from the safety of their camp. The camp wasn't much, but it felt secure and familial. Centered around the fire, Zevran and Leliana joked while Sten and Wynne enjoyed the calm atmosphere. Morrigan was left on her own along the fringes so that she could maintain the false perception of unfriendliness.

Everyone enjoyed the lull of oncoming sleep and a clear night sky sprinkled by billions of stars.

This was what Elissa could only observe in the dark. But then she spotted a spark in the sky that seemed to grow ever more until it was not a mere spark, but a heavenly object that shoned brighter than the moon. Elissa's astonishment at the scene lasted only a few moments until the panic of a collision became engraved in their thoughts. She was not afraid for her life, but the wretched village or city that could meet its Maker, once the object completed its violent illumination of Ferelden sky into the frightened landscape.

Yet nothing indicated an impact. No bright fire from detonation nor thunderous sounds of ground strike. She felt only a slight rumble.

* * *

Awakened for only a few hours, Sierra-117 was bracing half a ship for a planned landing. Despite having limited mobility, it was always helped to have a Smart AI conduct all the complex algorithms to that would course the ships for a "soft" landing into a lake neither too shallow nor deep. The probes she sent out and the sensors she had available increased such an outcome. Lacking Pelicans, it was better to land now rather than be inevitably pulled in by the planet's gravity after orbital decay.

The near-empty fuel and energy reserves necessitated that they reach land.

As Cortana carried out her duty, John was finishing up his checks on hull capacity and ensured every room, section, lane, and level was sealed by Cortana in fact _was_ by its thick titanium doors, bulkheads, and defensive mechanisms. He would rather be on the Pillar of Autumn for such a scenario, he thought however.

"Cortana, it's done," he said finally as he walked towards weapons storage.

* * *

Luckily, Lake Calenhad had padded the frigate's landing quite so and the ship's own inertial dampeners to a substantial extent. Anyhow, there was only superficial damage on the paint. Much more exciting was John and Cortana's swim to the surface out of an empty Archer pod with settings modified for human ejection.

Once on hard soil, John surveyed back to the lake and saw only the calm water that cloaked his ship seven hundred feet below. Well, not quite so calm since thousands of dead fish were floating on the surface, the side effect of the traumatic entry by the ship. The bird population would increase that month. The coastline, on the other hand, appeared somewhat scarred by a few hundred uprooted and broken trees from the minor tidal wave caused by the _Forward Unto Dawn_; enough damage to attract unwanted visitors.

"Eh, you!" the Spartan heard. Revolving towards the addressor, the commando caught sight of a dozen heavily armed people positioned among the tree line.

"Just who the hell are you?" one of them said.

"Are you from that thing that hit this place?" another asked.

John ignored their questions as he found himself perplexed by their medieval armor and weapons. _Did he travel in time? Or was it another dimension? Slipspace, the scientists and engineers often remarked, could distort reality, but also even affect the individual. There were stories of people just randomly going missing from the engine decks, as if teleported, and then reappearing a few days later. Only the bravest would volunteer to work around slipspace cores._

"I can read your mind, John. My guesses are as good as yours" Cortana interrupted.

"But may I suggest we deal with the possible combatants before us."

After yelling all sorts of profanities they could at the distracted stranger, one of the scavenger archers released a well aimed arrow at the giant's head. It was out of pure frustration for they expected to find items of value among the wreckages that supposedly happened several days ago. They had spent days searching for the crash site, but nothing came up. Wasted time and resources, they grumbled. Of course, that was until they witnessed a monster emerge onto the shores from the lake. Once it appeared humanoid, like true thieves and bandits, they took note of only the peculiar armor and object on its back as possibly dozens of sovereigns in loot. They were moving in for the kill as the warriors and rogues charged forward while a mage and an archer stayed at ranged.

Already mindful of their hostility, the dark olive green behemoth dodged and caught the arrow. Glancing at the primitive thing for a millisecond, he then snapped it and then began the action of drawing forward his battle rifle. Quickly taking aim, he squeezed the trigger and then released a hypersonic slug that traversed through the offending archer's pretty feminine face.

By then, ten hostile figures swiftly closed the distance between John and them. Their impending attack forced the Spartan to shy away from the second ranged combatant and turned his wrath towards the sword and dagger-wielding attackers. In three swift bursts of fire, three more bodies lost its heads. In another few seconds, another three died by gunfire. The Spartan's insanely quick reflexes and experience in war made him a hyper-lethal vector. His attackers were mere sheep to him. The remaining two, though, finally closed the distance and were swiping their weapons wildly. John easily avoided the greatsword and with a little more effort, twin daggers. His motion too quick for them, he crushed the jaw of the rogue with the force of butt of the rifle. With only one pathetic enemy left, the ground suddenly bursted into flames. Another fireball then came. By friendly fire, the mage killed her own crewman as she deemed the Spartan too threatening. Frantic, she generated powerful spells out of fear, thereby reducing her willpower and mana.

Somehow, the giant warrior dodged the second fireball, which detonated with great force, but did not impede him in any way as a golden silhouette flared slightly around him. Raising her staff, she flung forward a freeze spell and then turned herself round and then proceeded to run for her life as fast as she could.

Against his instincts and decades of experience, John decided against putting NATO round through the back of her neck.

"I know why you hesitated", Cortana whispered softly in his head.

"You asked yourself longer ago whether you could kill another human being. And now you have again. Whatever their intentions were, your instincts lead to a massacre normally reserved for the Covenant. Seeing that girl fleeing for her life reminded you of the billions of innocent victims that died in the same manner, didn't it?"

For that question, John let his silence answer it. The fight was all a contradiction to him. Realizing his guilt, he let that mage go alive, hoping that question wouldn't bother him in future situations.

He then promptly proceeded forward while mindful of the peculiarity of his new situation. Further exploration of this world would prove an affront to his logic. Soon enough, there would be new conflict for him.

* * *

I haven't really put much effort into this, but it was a quick attempt to gauge how the crossover might be received.

I'm trying really hard to put this in crossover section, but FFnet Error type 2 is screwing me over.


	2. Chapter 2

Several days had passed, yet the surveillance drones and orbital probes released by the _Dawn_ only confirmed the stark reality that John and Cortana had arrived in a new realm. Feedback data revealed a land mass populated by societies typically reminiscent of Earth's feudal era, but not to a large degree. Though John could see the emphatic hallmarks of stone fortifications in many locations, the notion of a true feudal society was countered by the presence of large scale cities, visibly urban areas, and something resembling a highway system from the aerial screens.

Nonetheless, on the personal level, the humans of this world seemed to be lacking any technological prowess or innovation. This was a vexing problem for Spartan in concerning the status of his armor and weapons. This medieval world meant that finding the resources to maintain his armor and munitions was practically an unviable process, if not impossible. Whatever supplies he had available would have to stay in storage, including his Mark VI MJOLNIR.

On a more rational reason, travelling around in futuristic armor would make him stick a out like a sore thumb. Even in his own universe, the presence of a Spartan made most UNSC personnel nervous and sometimes fearful. For those who had never seen a Spartan, they usually reveled in the belief that Spartan IIs possessed the ability to turn the tide of battle wherever they were engaged. On the other hand, for those that have, the grim dark truth was that the insertion of such commandos was a direct death sentence, such that any squads that were attached to them resulted in high casualty rates. Only a few UNSC officials were aware of the circumstance in which Spartans are sent into: suicide missions.

With that slight ponderance, John agreed with Cortana's suggestion at relinquishing his armor to the ships armory storage. Thankfully, the UNSC's neural relay and interface technology allowed John and Cortana to link through the orbital monitors that were released before the _Dawn's_ descent. She would be his most precise navigator.

"For your first major destination, may I suggest heading for the largest port city. It seems to be a political and cultural center, and probably the best place to enquire about finding the best supplies and new armor for yourself," she directed.

* * *

Elissa's curiosity desperately wanted to visit the impact site, but the rest of her companions repeatedly nagged her about getting proper-grade supplies and a chance to see whatever old contacts they had in Denerim. The traders at the capital city normally provided higher quality items than their village counterparts. For Leliana, Denerim was one of the few places in Ferelden where Orlesian fashion products were available. But for Zevran, the rare Antivan prostitute at the Pearl.

Anyhow, the group found themselves trudging along on the ancient Tevinter highway system. One would normally expect a scenic trip towards the capital, but the sky above was turning a violent grey and black, foreshadowing a thunderous torrential downpour. The dark overcast then finally expelled its innards, to such a quantity, that the precipitation blurred the surroundings. Elissa pressed on wretchedly through the storm with her company. She hoped to encounter an inn eventually, as they moved into the more populated areas of northern Ferelden. That hope lessened several miles later once she realized that patchy forests still remained ahead and would so for miles. They would have to stop and find or construct their temporary shelters then.

With Cortana's advanced forecast readings, Master Chief easily anticipated the large storm. Knowing that the fierce weather would last the entirety of the day, the soldier built a proper shelter out of the several young trees. He had just left the shelter to gather more branches to pad the roof of structure, but on return, he discovered a group of strangers standing before his shelter, hoping to take advantage of his work's welcoming respite from the rain.

"May we join you, if you can spare the space," said a youthful woman on her friends' behalf.

Observing the group's well armed appearances, John, with a simple gesture, warily allowed them under the large shelter while also understanding their sincerity to avoid ill-health from the cold dreary weather.

Despite the shelter, the mood beneath the roof was one of awkwardness and woefulness.

Huddled together, the winds made their wet clothes and their wearers miserable. The close proximity to their odd host made for some uncomfortable moments. His size and his build, yet he was human. Compared to him, even the Qunari seemed petty and small. There were questions just waiting to being asked.

Far from seeing an end to the downpour, Elissa broke the silence with a short question,

"Let's start a fire, it's obvious the storm will continue past the night."

"Yes, but we are out of dry tinder and materials," Alistair answered.

"I could have sworn that we had a bag full of it."

"But you forget, Morrigan's ego demands her own large pit of fire every blasted night."

In rebuke, the sorceress pointed her staff towards Alistair, "If I recall correctly, we left the task of gathering fire materials to that dimwit."

"Why do you two always have to act like a divorced couple," Elissa interceded.

"Well, if it gets really freezing, we'll just have to share body heat the old-fashioned way," expressed Zevran.

"No. No. No one is taking their clothes off. I'm sure no one wants to see what imperfections each person has under their clothing," she scolded.

"Say, while we were being silly, I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves to our host," the elf inserted.

"I'm Zevran. Speaking to me was Elissa. The dark one over there is Morrigan and her hater, Alistair. Then that's Leliana…"

While Zevran spoke, John became fixated on the man's ears as if the introducer was an elf. _Was he in a fantasy world? That would explain…_just then John pointed his gaze towards the two short statured beings in his midst. Dwarves, elves, and a giant. In other circumstances, they would all be considered freakshows. But this was his new reality that he had to accept.

"And what would be your name, sir?"

To which the Spartan reacted with a pointed stare, "Franklin," he lied. The name belonged to a certain Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez, the closest to a father figure a Spartan could know. His name was an honorable one to use, and the real person behind it reflected the values which candidate 117 followed religiously.

"If you're enquiring about my background, I prefer _not _to…"

"Great, we have another Sten, Elissa," the elf joked. In seriousness, the mechanical voice of the Spartan frightened some of the group.

"Where are you headed anyways, because we might be travelling towards the same destination? The end of this route leads to Denerim regardless."

"Would Denerim happen to be a major trade center and seaport?"

"Why yes, at Denerim…"

"Good, that is where I'm headed," John replied.

"We can guide you there and through the city," Elissa interjected.

"Judging by your odd clothing and seriously heavy accent, you're a newcomer to Ferelden. We'll help you if you agree to be an extra set of eyes and hands. Due to our explorations, we have a large inventory of newly discovered items to carry to Denerim to sell. A person of your size would be immensely helpful. Agreed?"

"Agreed," John nodded.

This development would certainly keep Cortana happy.

* * *

Oh well, I'm certainly not a good writer, but I'll try. I just only realized how hard writing is.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaim: I don't own anything.(DA or Halo)

This is an unfinished draft.

* * *

They were only a day and a half away from Denerim, but the group was getting even more impatient. The wretched skies and soaked land mirrored the low morale of the heroes. They were running out of supplies and discipline. The addition of the newcomer only made their situation more aggravating. His presence resulted in some of the crew becoming weary and chippy. Sten's unfriendliness was annoying, but tolerable because even the qunari was open to questions and even asking some himself. This new member of the group, this Franklin, this man preferred to stay a stranger.

_He was the strong and silent type; but that annoyed everyone to death_, thought Elissa. His silence and stoicism even deadened Alistair's usual cheery state.

Enquiring about how a human could be so pale and massive, John just stared at him and ignored it, which was the normal answer most UNSC personnel and soldiers received when they tried to be engaging with the Spartan so that they could confirm the person behind the armor was indeed organic. John's light hostility to questions was simply irking. Wynne, Zevran, Elissa, Morrigan, and company all had deep questions to ask of John. The mystery individual was too bizarre to leave alone. Yet, they still felt like they were talking to a mobile stone wall that was carrying their heavy luggage as if they were feathered pillows. His silky smooth black uniform was odd also. It seemed so utilitarian and comforting, but also an exotic fashion that was certainly not native.

Even worse, Leliana was starting to think that Franklin had mental problems. On one solitary occasion through the forest, so that she could gather fuel for the fire, she perchance, but still stealthily, came upon the stranger, whom she found acting profoundly awkward. Holding a thin rectangular object in his large palm, he seemed to be speaking to himself. His incredibly deep voice seemed to be addressing another person, but there was no one present. She kept hearing the name "Cortana" repeatedly.

"Cortana, I don't have much time to do a full depth report, but I'll make it short"

"My situation is stable for now. I've managed to attain reliable guides to the target city. I'm not giving out too much about myself, but they seem like a reliable. If chance allows, I may even stick with them to see more of this world in depth," knowing that he and Cortana were likely stuck on this bizarre planet.

Using her rogue abilities, Leliana decided against staying any further. She silently disappeared into the darkening forest under the dusk like a ghost. It was not in her new style to intrude on others as she had done in her past profession. The stranger's odd behavior still troubled her though. He either had an imaginary friend or an invisible one to share his lunacy with since his brief words connotatively suggested that his origin was…

"Ow! What in the name of Andraste…," she grimaced, after seemingly smacking herself into something that seemed like an unmovable object. Looking up, Franklin blurred into her vision and to her embarrassment, he said, "Sorry, I didn't see you."

"It's the twilight hours. It has an effect on the bearings of some," John casually acknowledged.

"You're right, if we dither here any longer, it'll be pitched black soon and we'll be truly lost in our bearings. Come on, let us gather the wood quickly," she smiled half-heartedly.

* * *

_I've just made a fool of myself, _she thought_. For all that was good about my skills, it seems that he has bested me. By Andraste, I didn't even hear footsteps or a brush of movement. How is it even possible for him to…_

"Oooo Lelilianaaaaaa! Would you just bloody stick the wood into the fire already," demanded Alistair. "Otherwise, I'm making you pea soup again."

"Uh, are you alright? Is something wrong, Leliana?" he inquired.

"Our new friend, the peculiar one, he's well…a bit scary and at the same time, surprising," she admitted.

"And how so?" the Templar wondered.

"Besides his nonchalance and social awkwardness, I can't really describe it entirely. He's obviously got many secrets and oddities. His behemoth frame, for instance, disparately betrays his actual deftness with guile. He has the physique and demeanor of an overly stern soldier, yet does not wield a weapon. If he does, it's not one I've been able to glimpse."

"Are you sure you're alright? I don't particularly favor the man either, but we shouldn't over- think," Alistair sought to say. "Anyhow, it's best to wait and see his intentions and what kind of person he turns out to be, even if trying to talk to him is like talking with a Tranquil."

Nevertheless, the group ventured forward, ever so closer and closer to Denerim. The nearer they got to the city, the more refugees, visitors, soldiers, and traders they saw on the roadway. At least they wouldn't have to deal with bandits for now.

* * *

At last, their arrival at the fortress city was met with the cacophony of urban-dwellers, be they citizens, merchants, foreigners, or guards; they were all accustomed to talking loudly over each other, due to the structurally tight and confined layout of the city, which bunched so many pathetic souls to constraining and unhealthy living standards. For most of the city, comfortable living space was a commodity not found in many portions of the capital. Even the large estates or institutions belonging to Ferelden's political and cultural elites could not escape the suffocating atmosphere of city life, especially for their guards in terms of security.

Hustling through the bustling city, the compressed band of visitors was squeezing themselves between crowds as they perambulated towards the main market district. Alistair, positioning himself at the forefront, brought the group onto a narrow street that he thought would cut down their travel time and the struggle to make it through the crowds of citizens. The new pathway initially seemed open and commodious…until they ran into another queue of people. Evidently, Alistair wasn't the first one to think of and choose this shortcut. Life here was visibly quick-paced and on this occasion, a little bit more chaotic than usual:

"Why in the world did we listen to that buffoon of an ex-Templar's idea to take _his_ shortcut? It's quite obvious we're going even slower. And whoever that is, for the love of…get your hand off my…" Morrigan shouted, as she pushed through the citizenry.

"Oh, sorry miss. My son, Sandal, has horrible coordination and uh, he gets really nervous around so many people," Bodahn apologized.

"Well, tell him to grab onto you and not me next time," the sorceress demanded.

"What? You mean your unmentionable lady things…" derided Alistair as he pushed through the funnel of people created by the narrowing path.

"Haha, laugh it up churl and I'll make sure you die a virgin, little man," she replied poignantly.

"Erm…can we not talk about that please. Oh, er, I think we're here," he asserted, as the group left the shade of the towering buildings that overshadowed the tight road on two sides and instead, they traversed onto an open area that operated under the gentle rays of the sun and the breeze of the open sky.

With everyone accounted for, the group dispersed at the central Denerim market district so that various members could attend to their personal needs. Zevran headed off in the direction of the nearest brothel. Wynne and Morrigan were off to the Wonder of Thedas shop for mages. Even Sten managed to guide himself towards an alluring bakery shop. He claimed that he was researching the differences between qunari and human eating habits. With the exception of Alistair, Elissa, Leliana, and Franklin (John), they preferred to examine the weapons, armor, and mixed merchants that would buy and sell any assorted item so that they could offload their surplus inventory and any unneeded goods. Fortunately, that was an easy task, but also with some awkward looks from the sellers at John, who then stared backed even harder.

In mind for some refreshments also after unburdening themselves of their old weight, Elissa welcomed the Spartan towards a tavern named the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

Only a few paces away from the bar's entrance, a man in massive armor veered into their path.

Accompanied by three of his lackeys, a certain Ser Landry introduced himself to Elissa determinedly.

Commencing the movement of his lips, "I recognize you…from Ostagar," he said.

"Andraste's blood, you're a Grey Warden. Duncan's apprentice! You killed my friend and good King Cailan. I demand satisfaction, ser!"

"Let me guess, you believe Loghain's charges against the Grey Wardens. They're absolutely false and so is anything that Loghain claims," replied Elissa.

"So you would compound slander on top of treason? You dare smear Teyrn Loghain's word?" exclaimed the chivalrous knight.

"If by satisfaction, you mean a duel, then I shall be happy to beat the chivalry out of you.

Where shall we meet?" Elissa smirked.

"The alley behind the Wonder of Thedas, good ser. And bring your companions also," urged Ser Landry.

* * *

The two sides convened at the decided address, but it was uncertain if the meeting was single combat or a group function. Ser Landry did not care and so left the decision to Elissa, who was already confident in her abilities as a lone fighter, but she was now accustomed to now operating in a squad. She preferred having the comfort of support, but the foreign bloke was the dark horse. He had the makings of a frontline soldier, but was hardly armed or equipped to defend himself. Has he ever even held a sword, which she never saw at all? Would he even agree to dual on their behalf? She hoped to convince him somehow and so approached him.

"Franklin, may I ask you a question…or rather a favor?"

John then tilted down his head at her in affirmation.

She began by saying, "You seem like or appear to be a very capable person. I'd reckon you were a formidable force on the battlefield with much experience, since I can't help but see the various scars on you…

O folly! I sound like a simpleton"

"So you want backup and a showcase of my abilities," he knew.

"By all means, if you don't mind," she answered

"As long as the favor is _returned_," he said with no intention of generosity. "And I'll need a weapon, also."

That was a bit of a problem for Elissa, since they sold most of the valuables or donated them to their allied representatives back at camp, especially the weapons and armor. She perused her mind for a solution and then finally relented. She would give him her family heirloom.

"Well, you can borrow my family sword and shield," she suggested. She always carried them as her replacement weapons and out of sentiment. One of these days, she was going to bash Rendon Howe's face in with her family crest and then cut him down with the Cousland's family sword. The only thing concerning that matter that she had qualms about was whether she would stick his head on a pike or not, for all to see. Anyhow, she went to quickly fetch items and then returned to Franklin with his requests.

John received the sword and shield and then promptly turned towards Ser Landry's band. His close quarter's combat training and the use of the energy sword before honed his swordsmanship's skill somewhat, but he was still a novice. He held the two items with a pretention of mastery. His would rely on his reflexes to see him through.

"Shall we begin," he asked Elissa. She nodded 'yes' in reply and then arranged the details with Ser Landry.

* * *

Each side stared down the other with their weapons bandied about. They were still separated by a dozen paces, but Ser Landry was the first advance his side. Elissa's side responded in return with a slow march.

John looked at his opponent coming closer. His pugnator was wearing silverite light armor and tightly held a longsword with both of his hands. John already saw and advantage for himself as he heard a clang that was followed by more bouts of clashes. Landry's fighter than rushed him, intending to conduct a power strike at him. The large blade descended on him, but the Spartan easily avoided the strike with a swerve to the side. It was John's turn, who then decided to bash his opponent into submission with first, a light bash that staggered his opponent back and then with lightning speed, lashed out at the opposing combatant with a resounding shield bash that knocked the air out of the man and at the same time, flat onto the ground.

The soldier stared at the helpless figure on the ground and then dropped both sword and board from his hands. With a mischievous thought, he picked up the man's body and raised him over his head like a log of wood. He timed himself for just a second, and then tossed the pathetic form in the intended direction with such force that heavy body flattened both Alistair and his opponent. The display caused a distraction that allowed Leliana to give her foe a critical strike to the side of his ribs. Her delivery caused her adversary to clutch to his side and then he fell also to ground as Leliana slashed the back of his knees with both her blades.

The agonizing screams of his men did not distract Ser Landry. Both he and Cousland were too focused on each other. The Cousland was a pup he thought. She had much feistiness in her attacks, but they were still unrefined. She relied on brute strength and perhaps emotional rage also. He thought those things were a weakness that would doom his enemy. Yet, he was on the defensive since his foe was unrelenting with her swift swings and slices. He had hoped to tire her out and when she was drained, he would unleash his own onslaught. But that was not to be so because he only then realized that all his men had fallen.

A large figure appeared behind him.

Ser Landry then found himself shivering and thought to himself for one last time as the giant behind crushed his skull in with a vicious punch.

The fight didn't seem fair at all. Franklin ended Ser Landry's life and Leliana for another's. That left two survivors, whom Elissa spared so that they could relay the message about what happens to those who confront the Grey Wardens. They had the permanent wounds to show it.

Elissa and her friends spent a little time to recompose themselves. Once they got over the fatigue of the fight, they debated where to go next, or even to find entertainment despite the day's event.

But none of them was ready to discuss about John yet. He was a man they wanted in on their grand task.

* * *

Sorry to say, but I'm a terrible writer and this is the last chapter.( Dragon Age II also killed any hope I had in the universe.)

Enjoy this terrible chapter.


End file.
